


the warmth that winter can bring

by mysteriousnight



Category: MASH (TV)
Genre: Domestic Bliss, Established Relationship, Fluff, M/M, Post-Canon, Snow
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-03
Updated: 2021-02-03
Packaged: 2021-03-14 07:54:59
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,720
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29167644
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mysteriousnight/pseuds/mysteriousnight
Summary: After the war; after they had gotten their shit together and said how much they loved each other; after Hawkeye moved to California and they started their new life together; after all that, Hawkeye and BJ visit Daniel in winter and BJ experiences what a true winter is all about: snow.
Relationships: B. J. Hunnicutt/Benjamin Franklin "Hawkeye" Pierce
Comments: 3
Kudos: 27





	the warmth that winter can bring

**Author's Note:**

> This story is dedicated to shoveling snow at 1:30 in the morning, something I had to do three days ago.  
> Thank you for reading <3

"Snow is supposed to start soon," Daniel says out of the blue as BJ goes to get the bowls for the chili. Daniel doesn't look up from the pot on the stove, his hand slowly mixing the contents.

BJ stops, his arms still reaching for the bowls, a sudden feeling of dread hitting him as he comprehends what Daniel is saying. Snow. He wasn't prepared for snow. "It's supposed to snow?"

"Why'd you think we had you chop up that firewood today?" He says as calmly as ever and gestures for the bowls BJ still has not gotten.

"It's winter, and Hawkeye likes to watch me do manual labor so I just thought..." BJ trails off with a shrug. He doesn't know what he thought, but that it was all because of an incoming snow storm was definitely not on the list.

"It's gonna be a big storm. First snow of the season," Daniel says when BJ finally takes the bowls out of the cabinet and hands them over to him. He begins to ladle out chili into each of the three bowls, his work precise and careful, not a single drop out of place. BJ rests against the counter, watching him work, trying to keep his mind from imaging what a big snowstorm looks like in Maine. The very thought sends a cold shiver up his spine. Maybe he shouldn't have agreed to come visit Maine in winter; maybe he should have just let Hawkeye go and stayed in California for the week instead. It sure would be a whole lot warmer, and now with significantly less snow.

"Hey, Hawk," BJ calls when he sees Hawkeye pass by the kitchen, grabbing his attention. Hawkeye spins around and changes direction without a word, raising an eyebrow at BJ. "You didn't tell me it's supposed to snow tonight."

Hawkeye's face lights up at the mention of snow as he stops himself directly in front of BJ. "I didn't want to ruin the surprise," He wraps his arms around BJ's waist as he talks, bringing them closer. There's little space between them and Hawkeye is gunning for a kiss, but BJ doesn’t immediately play along. He simply places his hands on Hawkeye's biceps, bracing himself there.

"Ah, it's dinner time," BJ reminds him and moves his head in the direction of the pot of chili on the stove. "Don't want to spoil your appetite."

"I'm a big boy, I can have desert now," Hawkeye teases and leans in, successfully placing a kiss on BJ's lips. He tightens his arms around BJ's waist, relishing in the moment, wanting it to continue, but his dad has other plans, ones that don't involve watching them kiss two feet away.

"Excuse me boys, but I would like to eat now," Daniel chimes in, breaking their kiss. Hawkeye huffs, not letting go of BJ just yet.

"Fine, go sit and eat. We're not stopping you."

"Oh but you are," Daniel points now to the drawer BJ is leaning against, the very drawer that houses all the silverware. "If you don't mind, I still need a spoon."

BJ flusters and pushes Hawkeye forward so he can step away from the drawer, allowing access to all the spoons in the house. Hawkeye moves reluctantly and unwraps his arms, resigning himself to the fact that it's dinner time and he can't spend all day wrapped around BJ, no matter how much he would rather have that.

Once they have all gotten their bowls of chili, spoons and all, the three of them settle down at the kitchen table, Hawkeye and BJ beside each other and Daniel on the end, the places becoming a routine the more Hawkeye and BJ visit. And Hawkeye may have wanted to have kept right on kissing BJ and ignoring dinner, but his father's cooking is the next best option, memories of his childhood and love filling the bowl in front of him. He savors each bite, and watches as BJ does the same, their bowls soon empty and refilled.

As BJ reaches the bottom of his second bowl, Daniel starts the conversation up again, filling the steady silence that had come over the room as they all focused on eating. "You two should bring Erin out here next year. Show her what a real winter is like."

"Now there's a wonderful idea! I can picture her now: building just about the best snowman to ever grace the face of the earth," Hawkeye says with a smile as he thinks of that image in his head, of Erin pushing around balls of snow, of helping her stack them on top of each other, of finding the perfect decorations to create the face. It makes his heart just about burst even thinking of it. "What do you think, Beej?"

"I think she'd become obsessed with snow and we'd have to bring her out every year after that," BJ says with a thoughtful look, truly considering the scenario. His face breaks into a smile. "But I don't see the problem in that."

A beat passes as Hawkeye and BJ smile to each other, both imagining Erin and the snow and marveling that this is their future, the life they can live together. It almost seems too good to be true, but it is undeniably true, and knowing that fills them both with a senseless love.

"Sledding!" Hawkeye exclaims and smacks the table, breaking whatever momentary quiet that had settled between the three of them. "Erin doesn't know what true joy is until she slides down a hill at an unreasonable speed and crash lands into a pile of snow."

"We'll maybe wait a few years for that," BJ suggests, not liking the way Hawkeye describes sledding. BJ has never been sledding in his life, but it sounds like a surefire way to break a limb, especially for a child as young as Erin. He does not want her to end up with a broken arm, or worse, just because of Hawkeye's need to indoctrinate her into the world of snow activities. He has to be the voice of reason here. "We can stick with snowman building until she's a bit older,"

"Whatever you say," Hawkeye says with mock complaint, knowing that BJ is just overly protective but doing no harm. They have the years to wait for her to grow up. "But just for the record: my dad had me sledding down hills before I could walk and I came out without a scratch."

BJ and Hawkeye both look over at Daniel to confirm this claim. Noticing all the attention was on him, Daniel just raises his hands in surrender. "Keep me out of this one, boys. That was your mom taking you sledding that young."

Hawkeye digests that information quickly and whips his head to look at BJ, finding new fire for his argument. "Are you just going to disrespect my mom’s parenting choices and not let Erin sled at her age?"

"That's low, Hawk, even for you," BJ says, not about to argue one way or another when Hawkeye's mom was in the mix. Hawkeye seems to realize this and waves his hands in the air.

"Fine, fine, fine," He shrugs, finding a middle ground. "We can wait until she's seven. Does that sound fair?"

BJ makes a show of thinking it over. "I'll agree to those terms,"

"Great! But we're taking her ice skating when we bring her out here next year. If she can walk, she can ice skate," Hawkeye finishes his point by standing up and taking the bowls over to the sink, leaving no room for argument.

"You are impossible," BJ says with a sigh as he gets on his feet, but he doesn't try to disagree, letting Hawkeye win this one. Hawkeye shoots him a grin over his shoulder as he begins to wash the dishes from dinner.

By the time the snow finally begins, Hawkeye and BJ are sitting in the living room together, side by side on the couch. There's a fire going that sends a warm orange glow through the entire room, the scene a picturesque image of a cold winter's night.

Daniel had retired for the night, leaving Hawkeye and BJ alone, the house quiet and still outside of their own soft movements. They sit under one blanket. (It’s to preserve body heat, Hawkeye always says whenever he slings a single blanket over them, despite having piles of blankets around them. It's a stupid excuse, and not at all needed, but it makes BJ roll his eyes each time, so he keeps doing it.) 

When Hawkeye originally sat down tonight, he had brought his knitting, spending an hour working on the new sweater he started earlier. His knitting needles are long forgotten, setting them to the side a while ago, switching from knitting to reading when he noticed what book BJ had chosen to read that night. It was a mystery novel that he already knew the ending to, but that didn't stop Hawkeye from aggressively reading over BJ's shoulder until BJ finally just set the book down between them so they could read it together in peace.

There’s only a single page left to flip when Hawkeye grabs BJ’s hand, stopping him from flipping that final page. "Wait, I wasn't done," 

"Hawk, you've read this book a thousand times, will you just let me get through it once?" BJ complains but with no anger. He's used to Hawkeye doing this, reading along with whatever book he's reading at the time. It's comforting, to read together, and there's a tender sense of intimacy that this activity brings that makes BJ never want to read a different way again.

That said, BJ wishes Hawkeye would let him turn the page so he could find out who the murderer is and go to bed.

"Beej, this part is incredibly important. I need to savor each word in order to feel the proper reaction when it's reveal Miss Jessica is the killer,"

BJ throws up his hands in defeat. "Why would you say that?" BJ gestures to the book, eyes set in a glare directed at Hawkeye. "I must have been five words away from reading that reveal. Five measly words! And there you just go and spoil it!"

"Oh come on, Beej," Hawkeye wraps an arm around BJ's shoulders, rubbing his hand along his arm. BJ folds easily into his touch, sinking closer to Hawkeye. "And besides, it was obvious Miss Jessica was guilty ten pages ago when she told that atrocious lie to Cousin Kreeves, completely contradicting what she had told the detectives about where she was the night of the second murder."

"I know that, but you still could have let me read it myself," BJ concedes, leaning into Hawkeye's chest. He wasn't that interested in the story anyways, but complaining to Hawkeye about it is better than just being disinterested. And, besides, it always leads to Hawkeye holding him like this, so maybe pretending to be more interested in the stories than he actually is is a good thing.

"Well, I'm sorry, Beej.” Hawkeye’s hand stills and he tightens his arm, hugging BJ tighter. “Can you still love me after this?" He’s acting, the words almost spoken in an accent, proper and dignified, just as the characters in the book are.

"I don't know, it was such a rotten thing to do," BJ plays along, but can’t keep the smile off his face even as he delivers the lines as serious as ever.

"Oh? What ever could make you possibly forgive me? Name it and I'll do it. There's no task too great," Hawkeye moves closer, a smile slipping onto his face now, knowing what he is setting up. 

"Kiss me," BJ says, and before the last word is out of his mouth, Hawkeye's lips are on his, passionate and warm and familiar. 

They kiss, once, twice, a third time just for good measure, until Hawkeye pulls away, keeping their faces close so each word he speaks is a breath of hot air against BJ's face. "If you kiss me like that, you better love me."

"Don't worry," BJ places a soft kiss on the edge of his mouth, his hand coming up to cup his jaw. "Of course I love you."

The moment is still as they stare at each other, lost in their own world. And then BJ breaks the stillness by patting Hawkeye's cheek and breaking out into a smile.

"I'm exhausted. Let's go to bed," 

On the way up to the guest bedroom they stay in whenever they visit— the twin bed in Hawkeye's old room not suitable for them both— Hawkeye stops them at the window, leaning close to the dark glass, BJ copying his actions. Outside, the world is soft and hazy; the only thing that can be made out is the snow, covering every surface imaginable. BJ has seen snow in Korea, but never like this, never so immense and peaceful: the power and softness of it juxtaposed in vivid contrast in the dark night.

Neither of them say a word about the sight as they both drift away from the window and finish their journey up to the bedroom. When they're in bed, BJ curls close to Hawkeye, hoping to keep out the cold he knows is just beyond the walls of the house. Hawkeye accepts him greedily, wrapping his arms around BJ. Their world is warm and soft and peaceful as they both drift off to sleep.

That sense of warmth and peace is torn away from BJ as Hawkeye springs onto the bed the next morning, coming back into the room after waking up an hour before. He lands almost directly on top of BJ, pulling him out of the half-asleep haze he had been drifting in for the past few minutes.

BJ immediately regrets opening his eyes as he sees Hawkeye's smile. He has something planned and is just dying to tell BJ about it. He closes his eyes instead and rolls over, hoping avoidance could get him out of whatever Hawkeye is up to.

“Give me five more minutes,” BJ complains as he smothers his face into his pillow, the words losing their coherence as he begins to speak into the fabric.

“No way. Your five minutes always have a way of lasting an hour. We got things to do,” Hawkeye wastes no time in his effort to get BJ out of bed, pulling the blankets off of him with a sharp tug. BJ groans as the air outside of the blankets hits him.

“What do we have to do? It snowed, I thought that’s when everyone stays inside,” BJ lifts his face an inch from the pillow as he talks, making sure Hawkeye can understand him.

“We need to shovel,” 

Now tired, cold, and annoyed, BJ rolls over to send Hawkeye a threatening look. “I’m not shoveling,”

“Oh yes you are.” Hawkeye pulls the pillow out from under his head, taking the last incentive keeping him comfortable. “My dad asked us to.”

That is the end of the argument, both of them know it, neither able to say no when Daniel asks something of them. Hawkeye grins before he climbs off of the bed, taking the stolen blankets and pillow with him and letting them drop to the floor.

He dances over to the side of the bed where BJ is still somehow trying to sleep, unable to keep the giddiness from his movements. Whenever it snows, he can’t help but get excited, like a little boy ready for a snow day, and this is the first time BJ has been in Maine when it snowed, the first time he’ll experience the kind of winters Hawkeye grew up with. He needs BJ to get up so the day can truly start.

“Beej!” Hawkeye starts to shake BJ, maybe a little too violently for the morning, but, hey, he’s excited.

BJ’s eyes fly open and grab Hawkeye’s arm to stop the shaking. “I’m up! I’m up! Just get your hands off of me,”

Hawkeye retracts his hands per his request and bends down so he’s talking directly to BJ. “You better bundle up, it’s a bit nippy out,” He plants a kiss on BJ’s forehead and leaves the room without another word, walking with a spring in his step as he wraps a scarf around his neck. BJ lays motionless in bed for a moment but pushing himself up, knowing if he stays in bed for too much longer, Hawkeye will come back and try even more ruthless practices to get him out of bed.

Ten minutes later, Hawkeye and BJ step out on the front porch, each bundled up in their winter gear. Hawkeye wasn’t lying when he said it was cold, the air instantly making BJ cross his arms tightly against his chest to preserve any warmth he can. Hawkeye doesn’t seem to even notice the cold, moving right along as he walks through the thin layer of snow covering the porch to the pair of shovels propped up against the house a few feet from the front door. He grabs them both and makes his way over to the stairs, ready to start on their tasks, but stops as he realizes BJ has not stepped one foot further than the front door. 

“You’ve seen snow before. It’s not gonna kill you,” Hawkeye smiles, kicking some of the snow as if it would prove his point.

BJ frowns and walks out to Hawkeye. "You know, I read somewhere about a thing called a snowblower. Does all this work for you," He gestures out to the open yard and the driveway lost beneath the snow.

"You're not getting out of this that easy. Grab a shovel," Hawkeye pushes a shovel into BJ's hands with a smile on his face. Shoveling has never been his favorite activity when it comes to snow, but to suffer through it with BJ makes it worth it.

"I'm just saying, we wouldn't have to go through this whole fuss if we just had a snowblower." BJ doesn't accept the shovel, still making one last attempt to get out of this. He is really dreading the job, the snow no longer a peaceful blanket of beautiful but a threatening mass of weight.

"Beej, you have gone your whole life living in sunny California, blissfully unaware of the hardship of shoveling. You were never ten years old and handed a shovel to go dig the car out which just happened to be sitting under four feet of snow. Did you even have a childhood if you didn’t experience that?" Hawkeye sticks the two shovels down in the snow that covers the porch steps and pulls off his mittens. "I am showing you what it means to truly live."

"If this is what living is, just pronounce me dead."

"Come on, Beej! Quit being a spoilsport!" Hawkeye throws his arms wide in pretend outrage. "Why are you so averse to shoveling? It’s fun!"

"Well, one: your dad's driveway is incredibly long. Two: there must be 16 inches of snow out there. And three: I hate the cold." BJ says, pulling any excuse he can think of.

"Aah, what was that?" Hawkeye drops any pretense of being angry at him to thoroughly investigate if he had heard BJ correctly. He takes a step closer, watching BJ's discomfort grow as he realizes what part of his sentence Hawkeye has latched onto. "You hate the cold?"

"Uh huh," BJ agrees, regrettably. Hawkeye laughs in his face. 

"Beej, you have 5 layers on under your winter coat; a pair of gloves  _ and  _ mittens; and about ten pairs of socks. What more do you need?"

"How about letting me stay inside and then you can have all the fun you want shoveling."

"No, no, no, no," Hawkeye wags a finger at BJ. "This driveway is going to take over an hour to get through with the two of us. If you think I would just let you ditch me to go sit inside with my dad and drink cocoa, you are sorely mistaken."

Hawkeye takes another step forward. Their breaths mix in the air between them, to two clouds of white breath swirling into nothingness. BJ is well aware this argument is over and he just has to accept his snow-related fate, a fate he knew he couldn’t even change in the first place.

"Now," Hawkeye says softly, his smile coming back with more kindness in it. He reaches up and pulls BJ's hat down over his ears, making sure it sits snugly on his head. "I think you're ready to pick up that shovel and start having some fun."

"I hate you," BJ grumbles but moves and grabs one of the shovels out of the snow. His mittens fumble to get a good grip for a moment, the handle slick with the still falling snow, but eventually BJ finds a comfortable hold on the shovel and looks back to Hawkeye. 

Hawkeye pulls back on his own mittens and takes the other shovel, holding it with ease of experience. "See, we're already having a good time."

BJ mumbles something under his breath that Hawkeye can’t make out, but it sounds a lot like a curse. Hawkeye laughs loudly, breaking up the perfect silence of the morning around them, startling a squirrel in the process. He moves on forward, descending from the safety of the porch and into the snowy mounds of earth before them. Each foot Hawkeye places into the snow sinks down, making a deep impression that BJ clumsily tries to follow, his own feet somehow sinking deeper into that same step, the snow seemingly a never ending mass descending deep into the earth. BJ is quickly losing any faith he will ever see the grass again.

When Hawkeye reaches the approximate position of the driveway, he stops and plunges his shovel into the snow, lifting up a pile of the heavy, white powder and tossing it to the side. He repeated this a few times, clearing enough snow for both of them to stand on the solid ground of the driveway. Before he starts again, he looks over at BJ, who has not even begun to shovel.

"Don't make me force you," Hawkeye threatens, edging closer to BJ with each word. BJ let's him get as close as possible, their faces inches from each other, keeping his eyes locked with Hawkeye. 

BJ’s going to shovel and doesn't need to be forced, knowing there is no way out of it now, but instead of moving away and beginning to shovel, BJ raises his eyebrows in opposition, daring Hawkeye on.

Hawkeye sees this and takes a second to look around, making sure there is no one else in sight, and when he looks back at BJ, his eyes are wide and his eyelashes fluttering in an attempt at using his feminine wiles to persuade BJ. "Please?" The pleading emotion he puts into that one word would put the greatest actors to shame. Hawkeye keeps fluttering his eyes until BJ shrugs halfheartedly, not giving Hawkeye the satisfaction to see his smile yet, even though it is trying to burst through. 

Hawkeye's face lights up, dropping all begging, and he leans in, planting a light kiss on BJ's lips. "Thanks, sweetheart."

Hawkeye is out of his reach before BJ can even let his smile show, quickly moving to the other side of the driveway and picking right back up with his shoveling. BJ is true to his word and starts to shovel as well, shoving the metal into the snow and trying his best to lift it, the snow heavy and sticky, weighing down everything in sight.

"Don't start thinking you can make me do anything just by giving me a kiss," BJ says as he finally gets a good shovelful of snow and tosses it to the side. "I'm not that cheap,"

"Yes you are," Hawkeye gives him a smile as blinding as the snow before he turns and tosses some snow to the side. "But that's one of the things I love about you."

BJ laughs, comfortable and at peace, even if he's already getting cold and the driveway is still an endless expense of white. But the cold isn’t so bad, as long as Hawkeye's at his side bearing the elements along with him, and in the end, shoveling isn’t that bad for the same reason. He still complains, not about to give Hawkeye the satisfaction of knowing that he was right, that shoveling is not the hell BJ thought it was going to be, but the hour spent clearing the snow off the drive is almost pleasant, despite the cold, despite the labor, all because he gets to spend the time with Hawkeye. 

And despite all BJ’s complaining, Hawkeye can see BJ warming up to shoveling, at least figuratively: he can tell from across the driveway how cold BJ is getting despite all his layers, like his Californian blood let's the cold sink in even under three sweaters. 

It's gratifying, spending this time with BJ, sharing an activity with him, even if most would call this activity hard labor and not a pleasant time spent with your partner. Hawkeye loves it, sharing these small aspects of their lives with each other, meshing their two backgrounds together, learning all they can about each other and how they spent their lives before the war. It's intoxicating, to share his life with BJ, to create a new life together from the remnants of their old ones. And watching BJ suffer through all the winter-related tidbits, well that's just a bonus. Hawkeye wouldn't trade it for the world. 

When they finish the driveway, there’s already a fine layer of snow lining the ground where they had shoveled, the snow continuing to fall around them, casting the Maine landscape into something out of a painting, a charming winter wonderland. BJ stands at the end of the driveway, leaning against his shovel, and admires the snow covering the trees. Hawkeye and his poetic waxing about the winters in Maine had been right about the unmatched beauty of the trees with fresh snow lining their branches; it almost makes freezing his ass off worth it.

But the peace of that moment is broken as Hawkeye throws a snowball at the back of his head, the snow slamming against his skull and falling directly down into the neck of his coat. The snow hits his skin in an icy shock that makes him pat frantically at his neck, desperate to get the snow off. Hawkeye's laugh rings out, like this is the funniest thing he has ever seen.

Once the snow is no longer burning against his skin, BJ finds where Hawkeye is almost doubled over in laughter, standing ten feet away, hands still covered in snow, marking him the guilty party. But BJ isn't laughing as he walks the few steps over to the mounds of snow at the edges of the driveway and packs his own, misshapen snowball on his hands.

"Oh no. Nuh-uh," Hawkeye immediately stops laughing as he sees what BJ is doing. He starts to back away from him, trying to get out of range or find something to protect himself. He is not prepared to reap what he had just sown. "It was a joke, Beej. A joke! There's no need for— AH!"

Hawkeye cuts himself off with a scream as BJ throws his snowball at him, followed closely by a second and third one. Hawkeye tries to dodge the snow, but somehow fails each attempt, the snow hitting him in the stomach, the shoulder, and then the face. BJ falters in his onset of snowballs when the last one hits Hawkeye's face, worried that he had hurt him.

Hawkeye wipes the snow off his face, clearing it from his eyes in a fury. "The face! You don't go for the face! Who taught you how to throw snowballs?"

"No one!" BJ reminds Hawkeye and lobs another handful of snow at him, satisfied that he had not hurt him with the snow to the face. "Remember my innocent California childhood?" BJ throws one more snowball at Hawkeye, hitting his leg this time.

At that final snowball, Hawkeye snaps, trying to swat the snowball away from him with a yell. "Will you stop it?"

"Why, I'm just having fun like you told me to do."

"Oh, you want to have fun in the snow?" Hawkeye says, his tone dipping into the devious timbre of planning a scheme. BJ suddenly gets very, very cold as Hawkeye starts to advance towards him. "I'll show you a fun time."

BJ turns and breaks into a run, not knowing where he can even go, most of the world blocked off by snow. But he doesn't need to make that decision because Hawkeye catches him easily and tackles him into the yard, the two of them falling into the snow. They lay in a mass, not moving just for a moment before Hawkeye pushes himself to his knees and begins to shovel snow towards BJ, pushing it into his coat, down his neck, into his sleeves. It's upsetting and freezing cold but BJ can't help but to laugh, the shouts of shock at the cold dissolving into a laugh as Hawkeye stops his revenge. 

BJ flips himself onto his back, finding Hawkeye straddling him, his knees sinking into the snow at either side of him. "I think it's time to go inside, Hawk." BJ says, hoping he can dissuade whatever Hawkeye is about to do to him, whatever last piece of revenge he's going to inflict. But his words are pointless as Hawkeye smiles.

"One last thing," Hawkeye says and leans down. No final revenge comes; instead Hawkeye’s lips find BJ's, the contact creating a warmth that no snow could ever turn cold. It's a chaste kiss and both of their lips are chapped and they’re both too wet and shivering to really enjoy it, but when Hawkeye pulls away, they are each smiling like fools. "I think that settles it."

It takes four attempts for Hawkeye to find his footing in the snow, and another five attempts to pull BJ to his feet. They are covered in snow, their coats and pants drenched, and BJ can barely feel his fingers, so by the time they are up the porch steps and at the front door, BJ's smile has turned into a scowl. He longs to be in California right now, with its mild winters and sunny afternoons and wonderful lack of snow. That longing almost disappears as he looks over at Hawkeye, finding him pulling his hat off, revealing a wild mess of hair from under the hat; but that sight does not completely erase the fact that BJ is freezing, so California is still decidedly a nicer place to be right now.

After they properly shake all the snow from their clothes and stomp their boots, Hawkeye pushes his way inside the house, the heat wrapping them up in its much needed embrace the moment they step in. BJ pulls off his hat and coat before he joins Hawkeye on the bench against the wall to take off his boots.

"There's soup on the stove, boys," Daniel says, appearing from the kitchen, wielding a wooden spoon. "How is it out there?"

At the same time as BJ says "Cold", Hawkeye responds with "Wonderful," their opposing views mixing into an almost unintelligible word that Daniel just laughs at.

Daniel properly moves into the hall, coming to where they are still tugging their boots off. Daniel fondly ruffles Hawkeye's already messed up hair, somehow making it worse in the process. Hawkeye ducks away from the hand, abandoning his struggle with his boot to fix his hair.

“Dad, wait until you hear what this monster did,” Hawkeye jabs his thumb towards BJ, “He threw snow directly in my face. My face! It’s a wonder you haven’t kicked him out yet.”

“I’m the monster?” BJ asks, forcefully removing his last boot and stands. “Whatever I did was nothing compared to the menace your son is.”

“Menace?” Hawkeye springs to his feet. “Everything I did was in self defense,”

“Boys!” Daniel cuts in before they could truly get worked up. Hawkeye looks at his dad as he folds an arm atop BJ’s shoulder, leaning against it. “Just come in and get warm. You can argue about this later, preferably when I’m not around. You’re both insufferable, that's what makes you two perfect for each other.”

Daniel’s exasperated look breaks into a warm smile. Hawkeye doesn’t know how to respond to his dad’s comment except to look at BJ, who's already looking at him with an equal, breathless expression. Maybe they are perfect for each other, both made speechless from these simple words.

“The soup should be ready, and it seems like you need it, BJ. You look frozen solid.” Daniel says, moving right along with the day, not caught up in his words like they are. He lays a comforting hand on BJ’s shoulder before turning to make his way back to the kitchen. “And yes, Ben, I made hot chocolate.” Daniel answers without turning around, already knowing exactly what Hawkeye was about to ask for.

Hawkeye and BJ stay motionless for a moment longer, still keeping their eyes on each other, a smile now playing on both of their faces. Then Hawkeye is in motion, taking his arm off BJ’s shoulder and grabbing his hand instead. He pulls BJ forward, excitement barely in check. “Did ya hear that, Beej. Hot chocolate!” 

They go to the kitchen quickly, Hawkeye in anticipation for the hot chocolate, BJ for the soup, longing for it to ease the chill that has seeped into his bones. The kitchen is warm and their bowls and mugs, filled with their hot contents, are already placed at the table for them. The rest of the day is unknown, but right now to sit at each other’s sides is all they need, and whatever comes after can wait for this warm moment to end. The snow isn’t going anywhere, and they aren’t either.


End file.
